


Tiger take the reins

by Multifandom_damnation



Category: Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Animal Transformation, Best Friends, Blood and Gore, Crime Fighting, Gen, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Minor Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Season/Series 02, Strained Friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25897183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_damnation/pseuds/Multifandom_damnation
Summary: It's about time he let them know that this tiger can do more than bare its teeth and growl.
Relationships: Kon-El | Conner Kent & Garfield Logan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	Tiger take the reins

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not quite sure why I wrote this. I was watching Titans with my mum recently and I couldn't get over just how mean to Gar Rachel was? Like, I love her as a character, but I'm not happy with her and Gar have been interacting. She of all people should know how Gar was feeling and should know better than to give him crap for it. This isn't really my best work, but I hope that you can enjoy it for what it is xx

He had never expected it to go down like this.

After being exposed to so much crazy, fucked up bullshit over the past year, the sight of an angry gang armed to the teeth with guns and crudely hand-made weapons barely even phased him.

There was a Cadmus van parked nearby, close enough that the tiger could smell the occupants inside, a camera attached to the roof as it monitored them, like lab rats being studied in cages. But Garfield didn't have to deal with them yet, as Conner and Krypto were already stalking towards it.

They were tired. They were all so god damn tired and burnt out and sore all the way down to their very bones, a deep ache that made their teeth rattle. The tiger's claws were stained with blood, its green fur dotted with it, but compared to how much the others were doing, they were just a speck in the grand scheme of things.

Distantly, like looking through binoculars, Garfield watched as the others twisted and flipped and spun, capes flying and fists breaking bones. A crackle of controlled electricity to his left. A bright flare of flame to his right, close enough to singe. A crazed laugh. Chiding. Familiar and easy conversation. Rachel's voice, overlapped and doubled with the darkness. They were all just so _tired_.

But then it happened. The thing he was waiting to happen and had dreaded the whole time.

Rachel went down. Hank went down. Kory was out of power. They were overrun. Everyone, that is, but Garfield.

He stood there like an idiot, the weak link, in the midst of the fray as his teammates fell around him and struggled to get back up. Conner was too far away to help, already occupied with the Cadmus van, and Garfield knew that he was alone. Water, water, everywhere, but not a drop to drink.

Rachel screamed. Dick swore. Rose was uncharacteristically silent.

Something shifted in his chest, like something fractured finally re-aligning, a puzzle piece falling into place. For the first time, it was as if he and the tiger were on the same page, like the connection that they shared grew stronger and made sense as if they were looking through each other's eyes. It was no longer Garfield and the tiger, two separate entities. They were one.

And they knew what they needed to do.

For the first time, Garfield sat back, settling in the tiger's ribcage the same way it did for Garfield and gave up total control. He could still see, could still feel, could still extend his influence, but he let the tiger take the reins for once, and Garfield just allowed it to do what tigers did best.

They prowled forward, head down, teeth bared. Garfield gave the tiger charge and just sat back for once, watching the outside world through its eyes. He prepared himself. He knew what was going to come next, and though he hated it with a burning passion, he knew that it was necessary. 

The tiger continued, a growl building in its throat. Rachel screamed something incomprehensible, probably telling him to run, that he wasn't strong enough, that he would get himself killed. The tiger ignored her. _Don't get involved_ , he wanted to tell her, _look away, let us handle it._

Garfield remembered a time not so long ago, the two of them downstairs in the security bay, Rose in the kitchen, some others gone, Jason with Deathstroke. "What could you have done, Gar?" her voice had been harsh, cutting to the core and spilling his guts out for all to see. "Growl at Deathstroke until he told you where Jason was?" Intentionally cruel, every word hitting it as mark exactly as she aimed them to.

It hadn't been his fault. The others had fucked up one time too many and Jason had turned to him for help. He hadn't wanted to go, especially not without warning someone first, but he knew how Jason felt. He had been in his shoes before.

And then they acted like it was _Garfield's_ fault, like _Garfield_ had convinced Jason to search for Doctor Light, like _Garfield_ was the one who publically embarrassed him and beat him up in front of everyone.

He was sick of being treated like he was less than, insignificant, mud on someone's boot. In a very short amount of time, he'd been captured and tortured, twice, left behind by those he had begun to think of as family, been killed and diseased by Rachel's demon dad, had been experimented on by a crazy organisation in the name of science and had been forced to fight his friends and massacred a coffee shop full of people under someone else's will. Donna might be dead. Jason was gone. Dick and Rachel were back, but it all felt _wrong_ like Garfield no longer had a place in the team. 

Maybe he was sick of being nice. Maybe he was sick of pretending he was happy and that everything was alright. Maybe he was tired of being treated like less than. Maybe it was time for Garfield to do more than growl and bare his teeth.

When the tiger lunged, jaw opened and a growl rumbling through its throat, Garfield let it.

Blood exploded in their mouth as their fangs punctured flesh that was heavy in their jaws, their claws cutting through skin like a hot knife through butter.

Ripping, tearing, rendering, the tiger tore through every unwelcome body that stood in its way, and deep within the darkened confines of its ribcage, Garfield could taste the not-so-familiar tang of iron on his tongue.

Someone was screaming. It might have been Rachel. He hoped it was Rachel. Though he had silently urged her to turn away, the selfish part of him wanted her to see what he could do, that he was capable of much more than flashing his fangs and growling.

Their fur was soaked with blood, dripping red rivulets onto the gravel, green fur stained red. Strips of flesh and sinew were stuck between their fangs and the inside of their mouth was slick with blood. It was in their nose, even when they licked it clean. To Garfield, it was unnatural and disgusting, but it was what needed to be done. It made him feel strong in a way it never had before.

When the tiger threw it's head back and roared at the sky, Garfield found himself roaring too.

The tiger relinquished control now that the threat was eliminated and Garfield slowly rose back to the surface, shifting from blood-soaked fur to blood-soaked skin, red claws to red arms down to the elbows, flesh-filled jaws to his whole mouth and chin wet with other peoples blood, running from his mouth down his chin and his throat to his chest until he was standing there, naked, in a great puddle of blood surrounded by mutilated, ravaged, flayed corpses in different phases of destruction.

He was breathing hard. He wasn't tired or injured, it was just something else, something like electricity running through his veins, like his nerves on fire in the best way possible. He wiped his forearm across his mouth, smearing sticky blood across his face.

Glancing around, he was suddenly keenly aware that everyone was watching him in various states of shock, horror and disgust. Kory's mouth was agape as she glanced between Garfield and the enormous puddle of blood he was standing in. Hank and Dawn tried to shield each other from the carnage as if looking away would make it imaginary. Dick's eyes were terrified behind his mask, lips pressed into a hard line, fingers twitching anxiously at his sides. Rose looked shocked yet impressed as if she was going to drop her swords to applaud him.

And Rachel? Dear, sweet Rachel who was Garfield's first friend and biggest supporter, who was there for him when he needed it? Looked _disgusted_ , like she was staring at a vicious monster who murdered innocent bystanders in cold blood just for fun, not her best friend, standing naked and exposed and covered in blood. "Gar? she finally clambered to her feet. There were speckles of blood on her clothes. "What the hell was that?"

"What?" Garfield retorted. The tiger, sleepy and full and sated in his chest, awoke in a blaze of fury. "What's the problem?"

"You just killed all those guys, Gar!" Rachel threw her arms out to gesture at the corpses. She couldn't stand to look at them. "You murdered them!"

"So? You're the one who told me that I needed to use the tiger for more than just growling and scaring people, so I don't know why you have a problem with it!" Garfield snapped, throwing the words she used right back in her face, and the expression she made told him that she knew exactly what he was talking about. She sounded angry, and he didn't know why. "And I didn't 'murder' them. They were already trying to kill us! I was protecting myself."

While Rachel fumbled for an answer, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, Dick mediated the situation and filed in the gaps. "We need to get out of here before more come, or the police show up. We uh- we'll need to have a talk about this when we get back to the tower," he cleared his throat. "You killed them all, Gar."

"So _what_?" Garfield demanded, gesturing at the other members of the team. "You guys kill people all the time! Rose used to be an assassin. Dick beat a hallway full of guards to death before Kory blew the whole building up. Rachel accidentally kills people all the time. And not to mention all the other times you've killed? Didn't you have some sort of dark streek between you leaving Batman and you finding the rest of us? How many people died then? I do it _once_ to save us all, and suddenly I'm the bad guy?"

Dick sighed. "Nobody is calling you the bad guy."

"Rachel called me a murderer!"

He stopped abruptly, shutting his mouth. He sent a hard look to Rachel before she could respond. "You're right, Gar. I'm sorry, we're being harsh. It's just... it's a lot to take in."

"It's so gruesome," Dawn winced, hiding partially behind Hank, who looked like he was mere seconds away from throwing up. "There's so much blood."

"I didn't think you had it in you," Rose said as she kicked at a corpse. It flipped over with a wet, sloppy sound.

Kory spoke up, wiping her hands on her pants like she was the one covered in blood."I thought that you hated killing people."

"I do hate killing people," Garfield frowned.

"Then what happened here? You killed them all. Could have fooled me"

" _I_ didn't kill anyone. The tiger did. You guys do know that there's a huge difference between us, right?" he received no answer. "Come on, guys. Do you think _I_ wanted to tear them apart or the very angry, very hungry wild animal? We might be one and the same and share the same body, but I can't control it if it doesn't want to be controlled."

"Yeah," Hank's voice sounded thick as he swallowed back bile. "I guess we know that now. Thanks for the very important information _after_ you tore them to shreds."

The tiger growled in his chest, low and angry, as it paced across his ribcage in outrage. Frankly, Garfield was feeling the same thing without the aid of the tiger, and a growl must have escaped through his lips because everyone suddenly looked uneasy and alarmed.

He opened his mouth to provide a witty retort, but once again, Dick was the one who broke the tension. "Nobody here is mad at you, Gar. You're absolutely right, we've all killed people. It's just rare that we ever kill them so... grotesquely. But you're right. the tiger kills the only way it knows how. There's no debate about it. But we really should be going now."

As everyone turned their backs to him, Garfield angrily kicked at the puddle he was stood in, sending a splatter of blood flying through the air and across his shin. "Jason would understand," he found himself saying before he could think about it.

Irate, Rachel spun around to face him, fists clenched at her sides. "Jason's not here," she snapped. "So you'll just have to settle for the rest of us."

"Yeah? Well, it's not like I need any of you! I've survived without you before," Garfield yelled back, twice as angry. "At least I actually like Jason!"

"It looks like you _do_ need us, considering you're standing in a puddle of blood that _you_ made!"

"That's rich, coming from you. Unlike you, I'm perfectly capable of controlling my powers. Maybe _you_ could learn a thing or two from _me_!"

The tiger settled back in satisfaction and pride as Rachel paused her retreat, outraged and offended before Dick placed a hand on her arm and dragged her with him, chiding her in words too quiet for Garfield to hear.

A gentle wind blew across him and he was suddenly aware of just how cold it was as the bitingly chilly wind ghosted across the blood wet on his body and the patches of his skin that was spared. He stood there, shivering and alone, and contemplated the possibility of having to walk home like this, naked and covered in blood. He wasn't looking forward to it.

When a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, he didn't flinch. Soft fur brushed up against his leg, not minding the blood. "The van's taken care of," Conner announced. "There were people inside. They were filming us but I smashed their equipment, so I hope that helped somehow. Here," he held out a bundle of cloth and once Garfield had gingerly taken it from him, he realized that they were clothes. "I also found a towel so you could clean up."

"Thanks," Garfield handed the clothes back to Conner so he could separate the towel and begin to wipe himself down. He grimaced. "Ugh, it's in my hair."

Conner was watching the retreating backs of their teammates with a deep frown, eyebrows pulled together. "What's up with them? I heard them arguing with you, but I don't understand why."

"They're mad at me for some reason," Garfield muttered, voice muffled by the towel against his face. "They think that I was too vicious when I took care of those men."

"Oh," Conner didn't sound like he understood at all. "That's stupid. You don't usually kill people. If anything, they should understand."

"Maybe they were right, though," The comment surprised even Garfield, and he stared pensively at the rag in his hands. "Maybe it was a mistake to kill those people. Maybe I shouldn't have done it."

The hand on his shoulder squeezed a little tighter. "No way," Conner sounded surprisingly sure. "If you didn't kill them, they were going to kill you. You did what you needed to do. But if you want my opinion, I would much rather have _you_ alive than any number of those men."

While Garfield appreciated the sentiment, he was busy staring hard at Rachel's distant back as Dick took his hand off her arm and Kory took his place to wrap her arms comfortingly around her shoulders and pulled her close to her side. _What the hell was that?_ she had said to him, _You murdered them!_

He glanced down at himself. His bare feet were standing squarely in a large puddle of still-warm, sticky blood. His mouth still tasted like iron, his molars gummy like he had recently eaten taffy. His stomach roiled from the strong smell. Bodies were everywhere, torn apart and still.

"Does this make me a monster?" he asked as his fingers crawled up the back of his neck, scratching through his hair, ghosting over his scalp until they rested on the back of his head and traced over the familiar, circular scar there, tender to the touch, raised in comparison to the rest of his scalp, covered by bright green strands, slightly thinner than the rest of his head.

Conner made a sound deep in his throat. "No. You're not a monster. You're my friend."

"I can be a monster and still be your friend, you know," Garfield couldn't help but smile as he pulled the shirt over his head.

"If you're a monster then I must be too," Conner said. "I've killed and hurt so many more people than you have. Even when we were with Cadmus, you only killed people because they forced you to. I don't think I'm a monster. I think that people who made me wanted me to be a monster, but I want to be good. I think that the good in me outweighs the bad. I'm not a monster, and you're as much a monster as I am."

"Thanks, Kon," Garfield smiled, clapping him on the back. "I appreciate it."

But Conner wasn't done yet. "You're a good person. The best guy I've ever known. And you're my best friend. That has to count for something, right?"

Garfield felt a warmth flow through him, from his fingers to his toes, and Rachel and her unkind comments were suddenly the furthest things from his mind. "Yeah, Kon," he beamed as he stood on his toes to throw his arm across Conner's shoulder. "That counts for something. It counts for... everything, really."

At his feet, Krypto barked a happy bark.

Together, the three of them followed the rest of the Titans back towards the tower, the possibility of a lecture back home high on the horizon, but with Conner at his side, Krypto at his heels and the tiger purring proudly from its place within his ribcage, Garfield realized that he couldn't give any fucks about what the others may think about him.

The tiger urged him forward and he left the corpses and the pulled of blood far behind him.


End file.
